


Chain Reaction

by Barkly



Series: Chemicals Collide [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Companion Piece, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Minor appearances by the rest of the Fukurodani and Nekoma crew, Minor pining, One-Sided Attraction, Prequel, kind of, might have minor mention of future poly relationship in the epilogue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 13:10:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8402947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barkly/pseuds/Barkly
Summary: Akaashi does a brave attempt at surviving High School while reluctantly coming to terms with his attraction to his energetic upperclassman.
Prequel to Chemicals Collide, no prior knowledge required.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Don't think anybody was still expecting me to ever put this up, haha~ It feels like I forgot a thousand things to tag, will add them later when I remember rip

Mornings always were a whirlwind in the Akaashi household. Letting the chaos around him be, Akaashi Keiji quietly ate his breakfast. “Good morning, sweetie,” his mother said, pressing a quick kiss on top of his head as she hurried past. Next to him, the twins fought over a pancake, even though there was more than enough for everyone, and their father still baked more. His youngest sister smeared syrup all over her face, and their mum sighed and bend down with a tissue, trying to clean it off even though she was already late for work.  
  
Yes, breakfast always was a noisy, turbulent affair. Akaashi tuned out for most of it, though he was quick to move his little brothers’ glasses out of their elbows’ range when the argument started to get physical, both trying to get the other in a headlock.  
  
“Good luck, Keiji, give them hell at practise!” his father said when Akaashi got his bag and packed his lunch inside.  
  
Akaashi nodded lightly, feeling a pleasant lurch in his stomach at the mention of practise. “Thanks, dad.”  
  
The twins temporarily broke up their fight to shout goodbye to their big brother, but his sister was too preoccupied by the food to notice anything else.  
  
Outside, Akaashi took a deep breath and let the calm wash over him. He loved his family, he really did, but there still was a sense of relief whenever he left in the morning. He exhaled slowly and adjusted his bag, then went on his way.  
  
He couldn’t deny that the thought of starting practise today filled Akaashi with a low buzz of excitement. Though he had confidence in his abilities, sometimes Akaashi still had trouble believing that he had been accepted at Fukurodani and was now an officially a member of their volleyball team. The school was a notorious powerhouse, and Akaashi could not wait until his first practise.  
  
Since he did not have the official club gear yet, he wore his standard gym clothes. From what he’d heard in the school hallways, he would receive them after the try-out period that all clubs had. Only a week until he could proudly wear the official jacket. A small smile crept up his face.  
  
The way to school was uneventful, except for that one guy with dyed hair he saw chatting loudly with the vendor of a food stall. Akaashi couldn’t help but notice the large ‘Fukurodani’ written across the back of his jacket, clothes in the volleyball team’s colours. For a moment Akaashi was tempted to walk up to him, but something made him hesitate. Perhaps it was the boy’s sheer volume, or the exuberance with which he moved, but either way Akaashi passed by quietly and hurried to the morning practise.  
  
Nobody went easy on the first years just because they were new. After they lined up to introduce themselves, an intense receiving practise instantly followed.  
  
When he had stated his name and the position he held in his team last year, Akaashi shifted uncomfortably. He recognised the loud boy from his way here, whose round golden eyes seemed to zoom in on Akaashi when he announced his position was setter.  
  
Those eyes were unnerving, locking onto him as though there was nothing else in the world.  
  
But the attention was gone as soon as practise started, and Akaashi forgot about the boy when his body was pushed to his limits. Still, despite the exhaustion, he was disappointed when morning practise was over and it was time for classes. Usually Akaashi was quite a diligent student, but that day it took all his willpower to stay focused during school. The classes passed by very slow but at the same time in a blur as he waited for school to be over.  
  
The club room was filled with a low buzz; Akaashi was not the only first year excited about continuing with club activities. His afternoon was filled with short practise matches; the coach wanted to see what his new players were capable of. And whenever Akaashi set the ball, he could feel those golden eyes burn into him again.  
  
Finally, the coach told them that was enough for official practise today, and if they wished to they could go home. Akaashi fiddled with his hands. He definitely did not feel quite ready to go home yet, to leave the gym behind (even if he knew he’d return tomorrow). So when the boy with the dyed and meticulously styled hair bounded over to him, Akaashi was not sure whether he felt relieved or reluctant.  
  
“Hey hey hey!” the upperclassman shouted, waving his arm to get Akaashi’s attention. “If you’re a setter, practise a few tosses with me! I’m Bokuto!”  
  
Akaashi hesitated - not because he objected to the thought of more practise, but because the those eyes still gave him pause. Underneath them there was a wide grin, all teeth and confidence.  
  
The silence stretched on just a moment too long and Bokuto cocked his head to the side. “Hey, you aren’t going to say no, are you? I’m going to be a regular this year, it’ll be useful for you to practise with me!”  
  
Akaashi twitched and instantly felt an aversion rise up in his stomach. “Wouldn’t you rather practise with the regular setter then, Bokuto-san?”  
  
A short guy with a messy undercut slid up behind Bokuto and leaned close to Akaashi in a conspiratorial manner. “Please indulge him, or he’ll totally get depressed,” he whispered, loud enough for Bokuto to hear.  
  
“Hey!” Bokuto cried out, eyes narrowing in annoyance, “I totally won’t!” Then he shook his head and turned back to Akaashi. “Besides, why would you refuse? As a regular,” - Akaashi noted he seemed fond of dropping that word - “it will be important that I can work with all members of the team. And Saiga-senpai is way too busy to practise with me anyway!”  
  
Akaashi actually recognised that name, having seen Saiga play in a tournament last year when he had gone to check out his future school. He glanced to the side and saw the third year casually talk with the captain, not looking particularly busy at all.  
  
“Aaahhh, you’re killing me, AkAAshiii,” Bokuto said, drawling out the name. But Akaashi was too caught off guard that Bokuto had actually remembered his name to comment on the butchered pronunciation. “Practise with me, _please_?”  
  
That last word made Akaashi sigh and relent. And hey, it might actually prove to be the good practise that Bokuto promised.  
  
They needed a couple of goes to get a feel for each other, but soon Bokuto spiked Akaashi’s tosses with ease. The ball slammed into the gym floor with an impressive sound, bouncing high into the air. After their third consecutive successful spike, the two boys stared at each other.  
  
Bokuto grinned widely. “I knew it! I knew you were good! I’m never wrong about stuff like this!”  
  
Akaashi just stared right back at him. The sheer power inside that body definitely caught him off guard. To be entirely honest, Akaashi thought the second year had been just full of hot air, bragging about becoming a regular and pretending like he was doing Akaashi a favour. However, Akaashi had rarely seen someone spike with that kind of force, not at the high school matches he watched, and _definitely_ not anyone he played with in junior high.  
  
Suddenly he was a lot less sceptical about Bokuto becoming a regular this year.  
  
The short guy from earlier (whose name Akaashi learnt was Komi) joined them to practise his receives. An instant rivalry brewed on the field, but their light-hearted banter made it clear he and Bokuto were close.  
  
Akaashi started to lost track of time, only aware of the way his limbs tired out and started to burn. At some point Komi left for home, and not much later they also got kicked out by the third year in charge of locking up.  
  
“Oh, you have to go that way? That’s my way, too!” Bokuto exclaimed at the gates.  
  
Since he had seen Bokuto on his way to school, Akaashi suspected as much. He mostly stayed quiet while the older boy babbled at him. Bokuto started out talking about whatever random thing caught his attention and often stopped walking to give it a closer look - Akaashi estimated that his way back took at least three times as long with Bokuto than it usually did. However, when they reached Bokuto’s house, right on Akaashi’s usual route, their thoughts drifted back to volleyball.  
  
“I haven’t had such a good practise in ages!” Bokuto said, grinning at Akaashi. “You are seriously amazing, it’s so much fun to play with you!”  
  
Uncomfortably aware of the red flush on his cheeks, Akaashi stared at the ground and fiddled with his hands. He shouldn’t be this affected by Bokuto’s words, but the force behind them was hard to process. “It was... interesting to practise with you, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said after a moment of silence, struggling to figure out how to respond. “You are a really good player, too.”  
  
Bokuto’s back straightened and his mouth curled into a twitchy, tentative grin. “Y- you really think I’m good?” Then he barked out a laugh. “Well, I mean of course you do, I’m amazing!”  
  
Sighing, Akaashi shook his head. So much for any semblance of humility. Bokuto waved at him and went inside, leaving Akaashi with a blessed quiet final track home.  
  
Not much time passed by before the regulars and team members were announced, just before their first practise match. Akaashi couldn’t help smiling when he held an official jersey in his hands, even if he didn’t make it as a regular. Still, he considered it an achievement for a first year to become a benched member. And true to his boasts, Bokuto now held a proud spot in the starter lineup.  
  
During those first few days, Bokuto was almost unstoppable, fuelled by his ecstasy over finally being a regular. He blew past almost every block and his serves were even more vicious than before. Multiple times he talked Akaashi into practising with him, setting a punishing pace that severely tested and trained Akaashi's stamina.  
  
However, he could hear the upperclassmen whisper among themselves.  
  
_“Wonder how long it’s going to last._ ”  
  
_“Damn, if he’s this excited, the drop will only be harder.”_  
  
_“Let’s just hope emo-mode sizzles out quickly this time.”_  
  
Akaashi thought back on their first time practising together, and Komi’s warning of Bokuto becoming depressed. He had assumed Komi referred to all the times Bokuto got a little pouty or whiny if things didn’t the way he wanted, which happened so very often. Slowly, Akaashi started to realise that ‘depressed’ meant something more severe for Bokuto.  
  
And to be sure, the day before their next practise match, Akaashi witnessed for the first time what Bokuto looked like in a self-destructive mood.  
  
The moment they realised what was going on, people tried to actively avoid Bokuto. He was grumpy and argued with his teammates over the smallest things. Spike after spike got blocked or was out of bounds, and his eye twitched every time, the curve of his scowl growing deeper. When it became clear he wouldn’t get out of his funk any time soon, the coach even went so far as to take him to the side and made him sit down to cool off.  
  
Though he tried to keep his attention on practise, Akaashi kept catching himself looking at Bokuto. The older boy’s frustration seemed to have seeped away, but became replaced by a look of desperation. Multiple times it looked like he was about to argue with the coach again, but instead stayed in his place, waves of dejection coming off him.  
  
At that point the captain yelled at Akaashi to pay more attention. It was not until the end of practise that he got the chance to talk to Bokuto.  
  
He’d seen several of the second years trying to encourage Bokuto, but none of them had any success. Akaashi had no idea why he thought he might have more success, why he would be different. He just knew he wanted to try. Did it really matter to have a reason?  
  
“Bokuto-san, can you practise with me?”  
  
A jolt ran through Bokuto’s shoulders and he stared at Akaashi like he was facing an alien. Then he wailed and shook his head. “Don’t waste your time on me, Akaashi! I’m not worth it, you should just leave!”  
  
_Aahhh, Bokuto-san really is like a little kid sometimes._  
  
Unbidden, the image of Akaashi’s little sister rose in his mind. Throwing a huge fit, angling for any kind of attention, even the negative kind. However, take all that attention away and...  
  
“All right, I will ask someone else then.” And with that, Akaashi turned around and asked a couple of the second years to help him out, specifically seeking out those that Bokuto seemed friendly with. Konoha and Washio frowned when Akaashi explained his idea and asked them to ignore Bokuto completely no matter what. However, in the end they agreed. Practising spiking and blocking with them as not nearly as exhausting as it was with Bokuto - but somehow, also not as satisfying.  
  
Bokuto seemed caught off guard by the casual manner in which Akaashi had turned away. Clearly, he had gotten used to people responding a certain way, either scolding him or trying to cheer him up, and Akaashi’s break of pattern left him confused.  
  
Despite not wanting to practise, Bokuto also did not leave the gym. He watched how Konoha taunted Washio ever time he got a spike in, while Washio just gave a quiet smirk of satisfaction every time he stopped one - which seemed far more effective at getting a reaction out of Konoha than any amount trash talk might have been.  
  
And when Konoha got in a spike at a particularly sharp angle, Bokuto started fidgeting and circling around them, staying right by the sidelines.  
  
Akaashi wiped the sweat from his brow, trying to ignore the burn in his arms. He looked at Bokuto, who jumped back at the eye contact as though he was caught. “Bokuto-san, do you also want a turn?”  
  
Konoha looked from Bokuto to Akaashi and grinned. “Go for it, buddy!” he said, and ducked underneath the net to join Washio on the blocking side.  
  
For a moment Akaashi was worried. If Bokuto failed now, he might just slide right back into that depressed mood - but if he focused, there was no reason he couldn’t get a spike in. Either way, at the very least his demeanour would not get worse than it already was. Akaashi took a deep breath and concentrated on the ball Bokuto tossed to him. He watched carefully how the spiker approached, remembered how high Bokuto could jump and how close to the net he liked the ball, then Akaashi studied the blockers’ position and gauged their reaction time.  
  
All this information came together in his head in a split second. When he rose his hands to set, Akaashi already knew the outcome before Bokuto even hit the ball.  
  
As predicted, the ball slammed into the ground with a resounding blow, quickly followed by Bokuto’s outcry of victory.  
  
Akaashi glanced at Konoha and Washio, hoping they still remembered what he told them. Konoha shot him a pointed look, then let out a low whistle of admiration. “That was awesome, Bokuto. We really can’t beat you.” His voice lacked enough infliction to be truly convincing, or so Akaashi thought, but Bokuto turned to them with one of the widest grins he had seen on him yet.  
  
“Hey hey hey!! That’s why you’re lucky I am on your team!” He pumped up his chest and pointed his thumb at his sternum. “I’ll drag you guys to victory. If I can beat you I can beat anyone!”  
  
Konoha’s eye twitched a little, not sure whether to take that as a compliment or not, but Bokuto was on such a high that he never noticed.  
  
“Ahkaashiii, toss me another one!”  
  
And just like that, Bokuto was fine again. They continued playing without incident - unless Akaashi counted the minor sulk when Konoha forced Bokuto to the other side of the net so he could practise spiking, too. “You can’t call yourself a well-rounded player without some blocking skills!” Konoha had shouted, which fired Bokuto right back up. Akaashi mentally stored that one away for the future. If these slumps were a regular occurrence, it was prudent to know as many ways as possible to counter them.  
  
Afterwards, while Bokuto was on the other side of the gym gathering up stray balls, Konoha and Washio walked up to Akaashi. “Hey, good job with him,” Washio said in a low, rumbling voice.  
  
“Yeah, he’s never come out his emo mode this fast,” Konoha added, clasping Akaashi on the shoulder.  
  
Akaashi rose an eyebrow. This was nothing compared to his twin brothers throwing a tantrum. Did none of the other players have younger siblings - or were they of the mystical and illusive quiet variety? He sighed and took some comfort in the thought that apparently this was as bad as Bokuto got. Honestly, Akaashi had encountered much worse.  
  
The walk back home was quiet, comparatively speaking. Bokuto still looked happy, but also lost in thought - at times he almost seemed to completely forget Akaashi was there. When Akaashi caught himself thinking he kind of missed the chatter, he wondered if he was going mad. Didn’t he have enough noise around him at home? Yet somehow, Bokuto was different. Bokuto did not drain him the way his siblings could. Instead, Akaashi could feel himself become more energised too, especially during practise. Somehow he could always go on longer when Bokuto was with him.  
  
“Hey, Akaashi?” Bokuto said when they stood in front of his house. Awkwardly he rubbed the back of his head. “Thanks for today. For helping me out.”  
  
Akaashi studied the older boy carefully; the way he refused to make eye contact, how his fingers kept running through his hair, one foot shuffling over the ground. “It wasn’t a problem.”  
  
Bokuto started to move towards the house, then hesitated. “I thought you were totally mean at first, ignoring me like that,” he muttered out of the corner of his mouth, as though he wasn’t sure he wanted Akaashi to hear. “But... that was really nice of you. So yeah, just -” he paused again “- thanks. A lot.”  
  
Smiling, Akaashi cocked his head to the side. “You’re welcome, Bokuto-san.”  
  
A sharp intake of breath punctuated the faint blush that coloured Bokuto’s cheeks, his shoulders straightening and lips trembling in an awkward smile. Bokuto stammered a goodbye and rushed inside before Akaashi got the chance to respond.  
  
Once he got back home, Akaashi somehow barely noticed the usual whirlwind of activity as he trudged up the stairs to do homework in his room.  
  
The next morning, Bokuto waited outside of his house for Akaashi. This repeated itself the day after, and those that followed. After practise was the same. It marked the start of a new constant in Akaashi’s life.  
  
Akaashi really did not mind.  
  
He was used to noisy, excitable people and Bokuto actually made for decent company. Sure, the trip took far longer than it did without him, but Akaashi was never in a particular hurry to get back home. He endured Bokuto’s short attention-span without complaint.  
  
Anything had the potential to distract Bokuto; a store, any kind of animal, street vendors; _anything_. Quite a bit of their time was spend indulging whatever had grabbed Bokuto’s attention, though he always kept his impulses under control in the morning. Neither of them wanted to be late for school of morning practise. All of this meant that Akaashi was not in the least surprised when Bokuto stopped by some discarded bulky waste gathered on the street, waiting to be picked up by a disposal unit. It was a sunny afternoon and there had been no practise that day, giving the club members time to rest their bodies instead.  
  
“Why did they throw this out?” Bokuto whined, pointing at a table, lying on its side with only two legs left. “Look how nice this is!”  
  
Akaashi stared at the busted stumps and sighed. “Bokuto-san, it’s clearly broken.”  
  
“So? My parents didn’t throw out my brother when he broke his ankle! They helped him get fixed up!”  
  
“Furniture is a little different from people.”  
  
Bokuto let out an exasperated sigh and gestured Akaashi to come closer. “The table leaf still looks fine! Don’t you think the grain pattern is really cool? And it’s such an awesome colour, I wonder how they managed to give it such a deep shine...” He slapped Akaashi on the shoulder, causing the younger boy to ‘umph’. “Akaashi, sometimes you have to give broken things a second chance.”  
  
Those final words stuck with Akaashi, unexpected coming from from the brash wing spiker who bragged about his skills but sulked at the drop of a hat. He blinked at Bokuto, feeling a strange tightness in his chest. A vague realisation dawned on him that this was dangerous.  
  
Bokuto Koutarou was dangerous.  
  
Akaashi knew he should be more troubled by this realisation, but instead he felt strangely calm. Bokuto's exuberance acted like a balancing weight against his tendencies to overthink, filling him with a lightness he rarely experienced. For once, he left the extensive analyses behind him and simply enjoyed Bokuto's company as they walked home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading <3
> 
> My [tumblr](http://barknobite.tumblr.com)~


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